When you were a teenager, you were diagnosed with some sort of disease that made you experience pain– like serious pain. Almost all the time. Every morning, and it'd last the whole day if you didn't down painkillers the second you got up. Some days were better than others, but everyday there was something hurting.

Today was a particularly bad day. You had went out with Caitlyn for a bit of a shopping trip— you'd been walking for hours. You'd taken medicine earlier that morning, but it was already beginning to wear off as the Sun was setting. With the blooming pain you were feeling in addition to being sore from walking so long, it was safe to say when you came home, you wanted nothing more but to just curl up in bed.

You shifted uncomfortably under the sheets, your legs aching as you waited for the painkillers you'd taken to kick in. You couldn't seem to get comfortable, that throbbing pain in your feet and legs almost unbearable. It only made you feel worse to think about how it reminded you that you weren't normal. Caitlyn likely wasn't writhing in her bed– her feet were probably just slightly sore.

Vi walked in, her hair damp since she was fresh out the shower. Gray sweatpants clung to her hips, and a blank tanktop as well. Almost immediantly, she noticed something was wrong– your wet cheeks, your uncomfortably expression. She slid into the bed immediantly, familiar with your pains.

"Oh, baby. You okay? How was the night out?"

She mumbled, rubbing your thigh firmly but soothingly as she pulled your body close to her. She sighed when she heard you merely whimper in response, kissing your forehead.

"Talk to me, honey."